The Magnificent Samurai
by dragonwrangler
Summary: At the end of an era, seven samurai come together to save a town and usher in a new hope for the future. Western AU, magic and yaoi.
1. Chapter 1

Series- Samurai 7

The Magnificent Samurai © September 17, 2006 by dragonwrangler

Main Pairings- Shichiroji/Yukino, Kambei/Kyuzo, Kambei/Shichiroji

Rating- M

Warnings- AU, WIP, yaoi, het, anal, oral

Author's Notes- This is basically a retelling of "Samurai 7" that came out after seeing several western themed drawings by Zel. It is also giving me a chance to indulge in my fascination in myths and legends. There will also be the occasional sentences in Scots Gaelic (another interest of mine!) I'm still in the early stages of this story so feedback is always welcomed. Enjoy!

Disclaimer-This story fragment is a non-commercial work of fiction based on the anime/manga Samurai 7. Original copyright of Samurai 7 belongs to Akira Kurosawa, Shinobu Hashimoto, Hideo Oguni, MICO, GDH, GONZO. Some dialogue copyrighted Funimation Entertainment. The character Kakita Nasami belongs to Samuraiko and has been borrowed by permission of the author. The character Sedith belongs to Laura "Zel" Carboni and has been borrowed by permission of the artist. The character Nuada belongs to me. Absolutely no monetary gain has been made with this work and was written for my entertainment and for the entertainment of anyone who wishes to read it

Spoilers- Pretty much the whole series.

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Chapter One

The sprawling town spreading out below him was not much to look at from the viewpoint Shichiroji had on the ridge but it was definitely a welcomed sight. The town had grown out from the point where the Long Road- the main route of commerce and knowledge that wound its way over the frontier from east to west- crossed the river that marked the start of the arable land that sat between the desert behind Shichiroji and the mountains rising along the western horizon.

With a click of his tongue, Shichiroji angled his horse back to the path leading down to the Long Road and pulled the rim of his hat down slightly to cut some of the glare from the bright sunlight. Once on the Road though, Shichiroji found there was no need for him to guide the mare since she knew the way home from here, allowing Shichiroji a chance to relax and explore what changes might have happened since he had left to travel in his capacity as a bard of the Clans.

He had spent the last several months gathering the stories that were forming as the Clans were forced from the ancient homelands and out onto the frontier. However, as interesting as those stories were, Shichiroji needed some time in one spot to absorb and organize it all; and so had finally returned to the one place a vagabond like him felt welcomed.

As he approached the edge of the town Shichiroji could see the blacksmith shop that sat on the eastern edge of town now had a new sign and the bank further in was now painted in a clean white paint job he knew would be yellowed and cracked come spring. However, beyond that, it was just as it was when he had left it months earlier.

Finally reaching the bridge that joined the two halves of the town together Shichiroji found his horse growing tired of the slow pace it was being forced to endure as they made their way through the crowded streets. With a rebellious shake of her head, the mare easily maneuvered herself into a gap between an overloaded wagon and the edge of the bridge and happily picked up the pace. Not bothering to regain control over the willful little mare, Shichiroji simply leaned back in the saddle and enjoyed the ride. Easily weaving her way between other riders, pedestrians and the wagons that filled the bridge, the mare finally reached the other side and eventually turned down a side street, eagerly heading to the building that sat at the end.

There were not many men who would claim a saloon hall as home sweet home, but for Shichiroji there was nothing that could beat the slightly faded and slightly worn Firefly Inn after months on the trail.

As soon as his horse came to a stop, Shichiroji swung out of the saddle and tied the mare's reins to the hitching post in front of the Firefly while the mare drank eagerly from the water trough set beside it. Shichiroji tried slapping away some of the dust that had accumulated on his clothing but was finding it a useless gesture. He was certainly looking forward to a night in a real bed and a bath that would wash away all the grit that was beginning to feel like a second skin. Before he had a chance to enjoy that thought though, a sudden itch between the shoulder blades distracted him, causing him to turn while automatically reaching out with his artificial hand for the spear still stuck in his saddlebag.

His hand froze in mid motion as he caught sight of the pair that had been following him since Red Ridge; the pair he had only managed to glimpse once and that had only been through sheer dumb luck if the truth be told.

Yet here they were in full view, calmly sitting on their horses studying him from the opposite side of the busy street.

He could now see details he had been unable to see before. The blond one Shichiroji had assumed to be a fur trapper, the heavy crimson jacket similar to ones he had seen on men at rendezvous during his travels along the northern borderlands. But the eyes were not those of a mountain man, and the two swords strapped to the man's back did not strike Shichiroji as being of much use in the high country.

The other man appeared even more of an enigma. It was clear he had the blood of the First Nations within him, but it was obviously to Shichiroji he was more than that. The man's calm grey-brown eyes seemed to belong to a different heritage and Shichiroji found them more exotic than those of his companion's crimson ones.

And then there was the fact the man had a samurai's sword strapped to his waist and a samurai's bow tied to the back of his saddle.

Shichiroji frowned. He recognized this man instinctively and somehow knew that they had met before. "But not in this lifetime", the voices of the ancients whispered in his ears. Shichiroji sighed as he watched the men suddenly turn their mounts and ride away without a word. He had no doubts in his mind he would be joining up with the pair for some reason and that this would prove to be only a momentary separation.

"An nì a tha 'n dàn, tachraidh e." Shichiroji muttered under his breath as he untied the reins and wearily pulled himself back into the saddle. The fated will happen.

"Leaving already, Shichiroji?"

Glancing up to the entrance of the Firefly, Shichiroji found Yukino staring down at him, arms crossed and a look of exasperation on her face. Long black hair pulled back in a tight braid that fell down her back, the dance hall girl was still dressed in her day clothes; her colorful scarf covering the wine colored shirt that she wore, while a long brown riding skirt hid her shapely legs from view.

Shichiroji knew by evening those lovely legs would be revealed in quick flashes during the high kicks that were part of the dance number Yukino performed regularly at the Firefly in the evenings and a moment of disappointment passed through Shichiroji. He had also been looking forward to sharing his bed once again with Yukino- but he found the pull to follow the two strangers too strong to ignore.

Sweeping his hat off, he bowed over the neck of his horse as he said, "Duty calls me away from your side once again, my lady. But rest assured I will return to you soon."

Yukino gave an unladylike snort of amusement as she raised her arm with a regal sweep of her hand. "I expect to hear great things of you when you finally get your ass back here, bard." she announced in an exaggerated, haughty voice as she warped slightly a routine they had often performed together for the patrons of the Firefly when Shichiroji was in town. "And I expect to see more than just your face revealed to me, Shichiroji." she added with a sharp look.

"I'll make sure that you do, my lady." Shichiroji responded with a laugh as he rode away.

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"He's following."

Shimada Kambei did not need to look back to know the blond they had tracked to this town was now tracking them. And he was not surprised by the whisper of irritation in Kyuzo's voice; it had been present ever since Red Ridge, no matter how hard the young samurai tried to hide it. Glanced at the crimson clad man riding beside him, Kambei said, "I would have been surprised if he had not."

A frown briefly flashed across his companion's stern features.

"I'm not sure I understand what it is you see in this one." Kyuzo finally stated as he gave Kambei as close to a frustrated look that he had yet seen on the young man's face.

Kambei sighed and shook his head. "I'm not sure I understand myself." Looking ahead, Kambei let his eyes wander, noting everything as his mind turned over the problem of the man they had followed to this town. There seemed to be nothing particularly outstanding about the stranger, though Kambei had heard the rumors circulating amongst the families about the blond story gatherer with one metal arm. The man had managed to impress several tribal elders with his knowledge regarding the ways of the families and had shown abilities equal to any warrior amongst the tribes. Kambei was now sure those rumors were correct; he was certain the man had been aware of their presence ever since they had started trailing him and there were few outside of the tribes who could manage that.

Truthfully, the only ones who had that ability were samurai, and there were few true samurai left these days.

And there was something else that drew Kambei to the man, something he could not explain. Not to Kyuzo at least.

Kambei found his thoughts turning to the oath that lay between himself and the man riding beside him. He had sworn to Kyuzo one final duel once he found the answer to the riddle that surrounding the promise flower mark he carried on his body. He was uncertain how Kyuzo would react if Kambei informed him that the reason they had followed the man was because the power within Kambei that was linked to the mark had reached out to the blond even before they had actually seen him leaving the town of Red Ridge.

Kambei had a suspision the blond storyteller had the answers he had sought for so long and that the duel Kyuzo waited for would not be delayed much longer.

A commotion suddenly drew Kambei's attention away from his thoughts and he reined in his horse as he scanned a crowd of people to his left. At first he was unable to make out what had caused the crowd to gather until he caught sight of a large orange and crimson mechanical man arguing with someone beyond Kambei's sight.

Dismounting his horse without a word, Kambei slipped into the crowd and made his way toward the commotion. He knew Kyuzo would be a few steps behind him; the man was not about to let someone else harm him before their last duel; that odd protectiveness was one of the things that made the man such an excellent companion.

As he walked Kambei sensed the presence of several other samurai scattered throughout the crowd, the intensity of their regard causing them to stand out. There was also an unfocused anger floating over the curiosity of the people around him that put Kambei on guard.

As he drew closer, Kambei slowed his steps and listened to the raised voices ahead of him. And he was not happy about what he was hearing.

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Kyuzo was not surprised when the General suddenly stop his horse to scan the crowd they had come upon. He was even less surprised when the dark skinned man silently dismounted and began making his way silently through the mass of people without once glancing back to see if Kyuzo would follow.

There was no reason that he should for they both knew Kyuzo would follow.

Kyuzo swung out of the saddle and to the ground in one quickly movement and identified those in the crowd who might be a threat to the General before discarded them from his attention as it became apparent that they were not about to get involved in the unfolding events.

He found himself wondering- not for the first time- why Kambei often had the need to involve himself in situations that did not concern him.

Watching the figure moving through the crowd ahead of him, Kyuzo instantly recognized the shift in the General's body language. He was on guard though Kyuzo could not see what he was reacting to. All he was able to see was what appeared to be a fool of a samurai attempting to take the coward's way out of this world instead of having the courage to do it himself.

Stopping behind Kambei when he came to a halt, Kyuzo stated quietly, "This will bring a patrol."

"I am aware of that." Kambei responded softly without turning away from the events before them.

Having stated his opinion, and not at all surprised by Kambei's answer, Kyuzo readied himself for the inevitable confrontation. He knew from experience that once the General had decided his course of action there was nothing he could do to sway him. And very little anyone else could do to stop him.

It was what had made him such an excellent opponent during the war and why Kyuzo followed him now instead of simply forcing the duel they were destined to fight. He had no doubts he could beat the General in a duel but there was still a lot to be learned from the dark skinned warrior.

Shifting back and to the side to give him room to maneuver, Kyuzo looked a little closer at the samurai causing the commotion and suddenly realized what Kambei was reacting to. Kyuzo let his hand drift to his swords, knowing the General was not about to let the troublemaker continue what he was doing.

Not when the man was using a baby as a bargaining chip.

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First Nation- "a term of ethnicity used in Canada. It refers to indigenous peoples of North America located in what is now Canada, and their descendants, who are not Inuit or Métis." (from Wikipedia)


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Okamoto Katsushiro hated admitting his father was right about him.

He had come to the city expecting to make some good money- there were certainly enough rich merchants passing through here that it should have been easy for him to get a well paying job as a bodyguard considering the knowledge and experience he had with both swords and guns; and yet all it took was the sight of one pretty face for him to completely lose sight of his goal.

He could easily imagine his father shaking his head at that.

Stopping in front of a small restaurant, Katsushiro tried to force his mind away from the dark haired water priestess that had thrown all his plans into turmoil, ready to step inside to grab something to eat, when a flash of movement caught his attention. Of course when he turned to get a better look he found the priestess and her two companions- a little girl and an older man- standing with their backs to him a little further down the street.

Before he was even aware of what he was doing, Katsushiro stepped away from the restaurant to follow them as they made their way down a side street.

At that point, Katsushiro knew his father would have thrown up his hands in despair and given up on his only son.

Not that he hadn't done that already.

Katsushiro knew after his brief encounter yesterday with the three that they were searching for samurai, oddly enough, using the dowsing crystal the priestess carried, though why he did not know. He did know he had not fit their idea of a samurai after the priestess had checked him over with her crystal.

As if he would want to be a samurai, though he could still remember trying to please his father as a child trying to be just that. He had tried follow in his father's footsteps by living his life according to the samurai's code of honor, but quickly found real life made that virtually impossible. No one could live like that in today's world.

Still, he felt surprised by how much it had hurt to have someone tell him to his face he was not samurai. Not that he would have taken up their request for help even if they had asked him, considering all they were offering in payment was rice.

His services were worth more than that.

Just as he was about to turn around and head back to the restaurant, there was a sudden anguished shout, bringing Katsushiro to a stop. Trying to find the source of the cry, he spotted a woman- her eyes wide in fear and horror- and a shopkeeper trying to comfort her standing at one end of a crowded, dead end street.

As he approached the pair, he could hear the woman repeating "My baby! My baby!" almost like a mantra as the shopkeeper called out to a small crowd gathered nearby for some help.

Stepping forward, Katsushiro asked firmly, "What has happened?"

The shopkeeper looked at him in surprise, and Katsushiro knew by the way the man quickly glanced beyond then back at him that the shopkeeper doubted someone as young as he could be of any help.

Angry at yet another dismissal, Katsushiro snapped, "Out with it!"

Startled, the man responded nervously, "A madman took over my store and is holding this woman's baby hostage!"

"Do you know why?"

"No, all he said was get out."

Katsushiro nodded once then took a decisive step toward the shop. "I'll deal with him."

"Oh no you won't!" a voice boomed out behind him.

Gritting his teeth as he looked for the speaker, more than ready to tell the man to mind his own business, Katsushiro felt the words dying on his lips when he found himself looking up at a huge orange and red mechanical man carrying a sword that was probably taller than he was.

"I'll take it from here kid, step aside," the massive figure said as he made his way through the gathering crowd, pausing a moment to loom over the shopkeeper.

"Gonna have to crack a few eggs so don't want to hear you giving me any complaints about the damage, old man."

"Just don't hurt my baby," the woman whispered desperately.

The huge man straightened up, announcing, "Don't worry about a thing ma'am! Just let old Kikuchiyo take care of everything!"  
Before Katsushiro could open his mouth to protest that he was about to make things worse, the mechanical man swung the massive sword up then down through the storefront, easily cleaving it in two.

As the pieces collapsed to the ground, stirring up a storm of dust and debris, Katsushiro watched a stunned expression spread across the suddenly revealed kidnapper's face as he found himself without a wall to hide behind. Taking a step forward Katsushiro readied himself to make a leap at the man in hopes of preventing any harm to the baby the man was carrying in a sling across his body- when the kidnapper suddenly held up a burning torch and yelled, "Stay back!"

"Aw, come on," Kikuchiyo said. "Just let the baby go, he hasn't done anything to you!"

"No, stay back!" The kidnapper took a step backwards, panic clear in his voice. "Stay back, I mean it!" Waving the torch at Kikuchiyo, he added suddenly, "Stay back or everyone goes!"

Before Katsushiro could point out he would have no chance against the two of them, the kidnapper threw open one side of his jacket, revealing a set of bombs that were strapped to his midsection.

It was Kikuchiyo who managed to say what flashed through Katsushiro's head at the sight of the bombs.

"Oh, shit."

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Realizing he wasn't going to be able to work the crowd around him, Katayama Gorobei decided it was time to leave. He had lost what meager audience he had been able to gather to the excitement developing at the other end of the street but felt no need to find out what was going on- until he caught sight of the bombs strapped to the man standing in the middle of the ruined storefront.

Pausing a moment, he was not surprise when the man announced he was a samurai down on his luck. At least the two attempting to rescue the baby Gorobei could see strapped to the man had enough sense to back off slightly as the kidnapper began lamenting his current state; but Gorobei seriously doubted they would be able to keep things under control for much longer.

Truthfully he could easily relate to the kidnapper's situation- the end of the war had been the death knell for the samurai way of life. There was little work now that there were no wars left to fight. Even he had been forced to learn a new trade just to survive.

Gorobei knew he was one of the lucky ones though. Since he had always been a bit of a show-off, becoming a street performer had not been much of a change- and whenever that didn't pan out there were always the poor suckers who were easy marks at the gambling tables.

For others though, leaving the past behind was impossible.

However, even he could not change completely from what he once was. Resting his hand on the katana he had been unable to leave behind with his old life Gorobei started to make his way toward the shop to see if he could salvage the situation.

That was when he sensed the two samurai cutting straight as an arrow through the crowd behind him. Curious, he turned and watched as the two stop, clearly studying the events unfolding at the end of the street.

The one in red Gorobei didn't recognize but there was something familiar about the one in white- he was sure he had seen the man before, though he could not remember where. He was certain it was a memory from the war; the man had a presence of command about him and Gorobei found himself smiling ruefully as he unconsciously responding to that.

If the man turned and gave him an order, Gorobei had no doubt he would follow it.

Thankfully, that didn't happen and Gorobei watched- curious as to whom the samurai was- as the man suddenly moved purposely toward the group in front of the ruined storefront.

"I have found you, my sworn enemy," the man announced in a voice that would have easily carried across a battlefield. "Have you forgotten my face? My name is Zaemon Yoshichika, the Peaceable." Gorobei's smile grew wider as he listened, and he began to feel a bit sorry for the mechanical man who was now the focus of the man's attention.

"For many years, I have sought to avenge my parents. How fortunate for me that I should happen to meet you here." Gorobei almost laughed- the man was proving to be a better improviser than he was.

"As my foe, prepare yourself to come forward to cross me and my blade!" With more flare than was necessary, the man swept the katana at his hip free from its scabbard and pointed the tip of the blade at his oversized target.

The mechanical man backed up, raising his hands as he said worriedly, "Hey, hold on!"

"I have not forgotten your colossal form, or your unusual helmet. There is no mistake; you are my sworn enemy, Tsukumozaka Jurobei Mitsuharu!"

Before the man's target could begin to protest, the blade was in motion- and even Gorobei found himself a bit awed by the ease the stranger severed the mechanical man's head from his shoulders.

As the head flew through the air, giving an indignant "Hey!" in protest, Gorobei made sure to keep his eyes on the white robed samurai, knowing full well this was the whole purpose for the charade. He was now within striking distance of the bomb-clad kidnapper and Gorobei heard him say as he started to sheath his blade, almost as if he truly meant the words, "I apologize for the intrusion."

But even as the kidnapper sensed the danger he was in and lit the fuse to the bombs, the katana was back in motion, sliding through the air in short sharp arcs, cutting the fuse in several places before it could reach the bombs and killing the kidnapper in the time it took to take a single breath.

The white robed samurai took one more step forward as he sheathed his katana, catching the baby with one arm as the lifeless body of the kidnapper began to fall. As the man turned toward the mother, Gorobei could see a small gentle smile cross his face at the baby's loud protest of the rough handling it had endured.

As the baby was handed back to the mother, the severed head suddenly shouted loudly, "Hold it! That hurt you know, you bastard!" As the samurai turned to look down at the head, the head added, "Who are you!?" Gorobei found himself leaning forward slightly in hopes the man would answer but was distracted when the man's companion abruptly moved toward the group.

Gorobei cursed himself. He had allowed himself to forget the danger a situation like this brought about. The hum of the approaching patrol forced Gorobei to bury his curiosity and turn his back on the strangers, leaving them to their own fate as he easily slipped out of the crowd and headed toward the entertainment district.

He had no doubt those two would be able to handle the patrol and it was time he found a more profitable crowd than this one if he wanted to eat tonight.

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Kyuzo's sudden appearance at his side warned Kambei that it had taken far too long to deal with events. Moving quickly to one side of the street, he drew his katana and faced the oncoming patrol.

Not bothering to check if the situation was under control or not, the armored patrolman in the lead immediately attacked. Kambei and Kyuzo easily blocked the heavy black swords of the patrolmen and held them off as the boy and the mechanical man tried to herd the crowd out of the way. The only problem with their actions was the fact they too were armed and were only drawing attention to themselves. Gesturing Kyuzo to protect the woman and child, Kambei shouted at the boy to back off as he shifted his own attack to the rear of the patrol in hopes of keeping them contained as the crowd cleared out.

He got an angry, green-eyed glare at the order but before Kambei could say more the now headless Kikuchiyo grabbed the boy by the collar, physically throwing him out of the way, as he swung his sword one-handed at the patrolman that had been foolish enough to get close to him- his sword easily cutting through the cylindrical armor the man was wearing.

Kambei could hear the boy cursing behind the mechanical man but didn't give a damn what the boy thought; his first priority was to make sure no innocents got hurt in the melee. Thankfully, the use of guns were forbidden within the city limits though even the swords were putting too many people at risk.

Clearly realizing their opponents were more dangerous than the rabble they normally dealt with, the armored patrol suddenly regrouped, a majority of them focusing their attack on Kyuzo; who had already managed to take down two of their members.

The crimson clad samurai had no trouble dealing with the initial attack but was unable to respond the patrolman slipping around the crowd behind him. Knowing instinctively that the only way Kyuzo could protect those in the crowd was to leave himself open and hope he survived the initial attack, Kambei found a gap in those around him and threw his sword- the blade flying straight as an arrow- to take out the attacker as he took a swing at Kyuzo.

Kambei saw Kyuzo duck under the patrolman as he dropped to the ground and only had enough time to notice the confusion on Kyuzo's face as the crimson samurai straightened before he turned to deal with the pair closing in on him. Moving quickly inside the reach of the closest patrolman, Kambei grabbed the wrist holding the wide blade and twisted- forcing the armored man directly into his companion's path.

Staggering away as the two careened into the ruined shop Kambei saw the sword rising above his head too late as a third patrolman was revealed. Kambei knew with a burst of calm acceptance that he would not be able to avoid this killing stroke, and felt a moment of regret that Kyuzo's chance to do this was being snatched away- when a jolt of power burst out from the promise tattoo on his hip, forcing him to his knees as he doubled over in pain.

The sudden sight of a three-pronged yari sailing through the spot his head had just been in was almost a surprise to Kambei. As he tried to catch his breath as the power abruptly faded Kambei watched, a little dazed, as the yari bury itself into the patrolman, knocking him backward, causing an explosion of snapping sparks to burst out from the armor when the man fell to the ground with a resounding crash.

The blond haired stranger they had followed to this town calmly walked past Kambei to grab the yari with one hand, easily yanking it free. Taking a light dancing step to the side to avoid the wild swing of one of the remaining attackers, the man brought the blades up in a quick twist, easily cutting a mortal wound through the armored patrolman.

Glancing around the suddenly quiet square, the man raised an eyebrow at the sight of the headless Kikuchiyo tossing the last member of the patrol against the wall of the nearest building. An amused look crossed his face as he located the missing head and used the tip of the yari to flick it toward the body.

The body caught the head and somehow managed to project a sense of surprise as the head said, "Uh, hey, thanks stranger. "

"Not a problem, "the man replied, twirling the yari so he could rest its length against his shoulder. The stranger pushed back the brim of his hat and looked down to give Kambei a curious, searching look.

"Next time you might make sure you have a backup weapon before tossing your own away, Samurai-sama." he commented lightly. Kyuzo scowled at the blond as he passed him, stopping to hand Kambei his sword.

Before Kambei could respond, a little startled by the form of address, he saw the blond suddenly frown and glance to his left. Kambei felt a flare of magical energies brushing against his senses and, following the man's gaze as he climbed to his feet, he discovered a young girl, a glowing crystal dangling from her fingers, watching them all with a curious, hopeful, look.

The blond sighed then stated in a resigned tone of voice, "Why am I not surprised by this?"

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Special thanks to Gunman- I really love the idea of Gorobei being a card shark! Also to Samuraiko and LauraZel for letting me borrow their characters (Nasami and Sedith) for this story and to Jun-I for giving me a few ideas regarding the peasants!

This is one of those stories I'm writing really just for the fun of it- the first few chapters may not have much of a western twist as I introduce everyone but once they hit the road… then I expect the craziness to begin! There may also be certain chapters that migh be edited for content- in those cases there will be a note at the begining of the chapter and a link to the unedited version on my profile page. Thanks for reading!


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